Caught in the Headlights
by bandsandbooksxoxo
Summary: Constantly finding himself looking at Hermione, Draco starts to ask himself why. Constantly seeing Draco look at her, Hermione starts to ask herself why. And why she won't look away. T rating for language. Please read and review, that'd be awesome.
1. Chapter 1

Caught In the Headlights

ACHOO! _Oh Merlin no, _Draco thought, wiping his hand under his runny, red nose. AH-AH-ACHOO! _Great. Another cold._

It wasn't the time to be sneezing, not in the middle of mock OWLs. Yes, okay, they weren't real, but one slip up and one could be disqualified from the REAL OWLs. And without OWLs, you can't do your NEWTs, and without NEWTs... well... you're screwed, let's just put it that way.

_Right,_ Draco thought, trying to suppress yet another incoming sneeze. _Focus, Draco, focus. "Question six: Explain the aftermath of-" _ACHOO! "_- the Aging Potion and how this could affect one's appearance throughout the rest of their life." _Not a hard question really, but with a migraine and a constant sneeze, Draco found it hard to concentrate.

He looked up, and saw Professor Snape's eyes piercing into the back of Longbottom's head. He was distracted. Draco was free to look around at everyone else to see where they were at. He turned around to see Blaise's head resting on the desk. Draco shook his head. 'Blaise,' he whispered. 'Blaise. Wake up.' Blaise suddenly jolted up from the desk. His eyes were sunken and red and his lips as dry as a summer day's concrete ground.

'Whatdya say?' Blaise asked, leaning in.

'Nothing,' Draco replied. 'Just concentrate.'

'I am!'

'You were sleeping, you idiot! If you don't do well, old Dumbledore will be pointing his finger at me, telling me I distracted you.'

'Whatever. And there's me thinking you woke me up because you cared for me. Wouldn't that've been nice, eh?' Blaise said, a hint of mocking and laughter in his otherwise angry voice.

'Shut up,' Draco spat and turned back around. ACHOO! _Back come the sneezes._

Draco put his head down to try and write out a sentence about Aging Potions, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't form an answer. So, to pass the time, he looked up. It would really matter if he missed this one question. It was only a three mark question, and with it being the final question, Draco felt that he didn't really need to do it. He scanned the Great Hall. It was unrecognisable, now the long tables were gone and individual exam tables were in their place. Draco saw people's hands frantically writing and heads low down. Scratching on parchment irritated him, but unfortunately he'd have to get used to it, what with all the mocks coming up so soon.

One person stood out to him as he glanced round. Granger. She was done. _Pfft, obviously, _Draco thought, glaring at her, although she couldn't actually see him. _Swotty little bitch. She was probably done half an hour ago. _However, Hermione felt some cold eyes stab her back, so she quietly turned around to find Draco looking at her. She gave him a, 'what do you want?' look. Draco quietly scoffed and rolled his eyes. Hermione raised her eyebrows and turned back around. _I don't have time for Draco or any of his antics today, _Hermione thought. _Too bad he's in every single of one exams for the next two weeks._


	2. Chapter 2

'How did you do, Harry?' Ron asked as he, Harry and Hermione all walked out of the Great Hall, trying not to be run over by some vast 7th years running to get some last minute revision done.

'Alright, I think,' Harry replied.

'Oh shush Harry, you've probably done better than anyone,' Hermione said. 'Snape may hate you and all and mark you down on your essays for no apparent reason, but you're not stupid. You're really not.'

'Thanks, 'Mione,' Harry said.

'Don't,' Hermione snapped, stopping in the middle of the corridor and raising a finger at Harry's face.

'What?' Harry asked.

'Where the hell did that ghastly nickname come from?'

'What, 'Mione?'

'Yes, 'Mione.'

'Well, I thought it was endearing.'

'HA!' Ron chimed in. He was laughing and snorting like a pig. 'Sorry mate, already tried that name on her. She's handling it better with you though. She slapped me.'

'Guys, come on,' Hermione started and started to move away, indicating that the boys should walk with her. 'I've read some great stories - Muggle stories, mind - about some friends with a character called Hermione and her name is ALWAYS shortened to 'Mione. It's ridiculous because the character is NEVER a 'Mione. You know, she's a Hermione. Elegant, eloquent, graceful. A Hermione.'

'Alright, we get it,' Ron mumbled. 'Merlin, Hermione, you can go on a bit.'

'Yes, I know, I'm sorry, but it's just SO annoying!' Hermione exclaimed.

'We get it,' Harry said. 'Now come on, let's put all these books back in the library. My bag is unnecessarily heavy. Potions revision is done.'

The library was Hermione's favourite place. She didn't understand why it wasn't for others. It was an extremely grand and gracious room, full of vintage chairs that engulfed you when you sat down in them and books that she itched to look through but never had the time to do so. It was so quiet, yet so full of life; full of knowledge and adventure. As Ron and Harry trundled towards the 'Revision for Exams' section of the library, Hermione went to a section she had always adored ever since she stepped foot into the library for the first time: the History section, Muggle and Wizard. History had forever fascinated her and with a library so endless right at her doorstep, Hermione woke up every day wanting to just run and sink into one of the chairs and read for hours on end. But, of course, she couldn't do that on weekdays. Weekends were all hers, however.

'HARRY, SHUT UP! SWEET MERLIN ON A BIKE YOU CAN YELL,' came Ron's bellowing voice from four bookcases over.

'Not again,' Hermione muttered to herself. 'Ron!' Hermione whispered, just loud enough for Ron to hear. 'Shouting to Harry to shut up defeats the point! Now come over here, I-'

'Oh, not another lover's tiff is it?' came a slimy, sickening, voice from behind Hermione. 'Aw, don't want Ginger and Mudbwood to bweak up now do we? No, no, no.' Hairs on the end of Hermione's arms stood up. Just the person she didn't want to ever see was now pretending to speak like a baby, trying to be condescending towards her. She turned around.

'What do you want, Draco?' she asked, not even trying to hide her hatred for him.

'Oh nothing, I was just trying to cool you down. You seemed VERY het up.'

'Oh for Merlin's sake, Draco, just go away,' Hermione argued. Looking him in the eyes was extremely difficult at first, but once you started staring at him you couldn't really stop. Even though grey was not the most exciting of eye colours, Draco could sure make them icy enough to grab your attention.

'I would, but I won't,' Draco said, now staring straight into Hermione's brown eyes.

'Oh yeah? Why is that?' Hermione asked.

'You're just SO adorable when you're angry!' Draco spat. He laughed. His laugh could terrify Snape if the source of the laugh was nowhere to be seen. It was as icy cold as his eyes, so lifeless and meaningless, yet so full of anger and hatred.

'Malfoy piss off,' Ron said, coming up behind Hermione.

'BE. QUIET,' a harsh voice snapped.

'Sorry Madam Pince!' Harry said, smiling as sweetly as he could.

'Huh, yeah, sure...' Madam Pince's voice trailed off, but her nasty snarl did not. As soon as she left the section, the bickering continued.

'Well I'm sorry Granger here can't stop looking at me and falling in love with me. Isn't that right, Granger?' Malfoy teased.

'Oh would you just fuck off?' Ron hissed.

'Oh I would but watching you all getting so angry at nothing is so much fun!' Draco cried. 'But now you mention it, I have to be places. Bye losers.' He looked at Ron and Harry, raising his right eyebrow. 'And Granger.' Staring at Hermione, his mouth curled up into a sly, teasing smile.

As Draco left, Hermione couldn't stop ranting. 'I hate him! I do hate him! He has nothing else better to do but to irritate us all the time. He's so disgusting... ugh!'

'Trust me,' Ron said, 'Harry and I feel exactly the same.'

'Hermione, just calm,' Harry said as they were walking out of the library back to the now suddenly much more inviting Gryffindor common room.

'I can't "just calm", Harry! He's so full of himself. I swear if he's not careful, I'll end up punching him again.'

'Yeah, try not to,' replied Harry. 'You'll get expelled or suspended or whatever. And how much do you want that?' There was a slight pause as Hermione considered this.

'Not much,' she mumbled quietly.

'Exactly!'

Going to sleep that night wasn't easy for Hermione. All of the mock OWLs were on her mind, but that wasn't all.

'Draco's such an awful human being. I wish he would just disappear sometimes,' she muttered under her breath to herself that night whilst she laid in bed. But if she wished he would disappear so much, then why couldn't she stop thinking about his stare? His eyes? Brilliantly gushy, but true. Because as much as she wanted to slap him, she also had a weird urge to just... kiss him.


	3. Chapter 3

'Oh fuck off would you, Pansy?'

'But, Draco, all I-'

'Pansy, I'm really not in the fucking mood. Now get out of my way, I want to get into the common room without having a nervous breakdown because of severe harassment.' Pansy didn't move. 'Move!' She finally shuffled reluctantly out of the way and let Draco through.

The Slytherin common room was not Draco's favourite place in the world. He'd so much rather be at Malfoy Manor, being wherever he wanted and doing whatever he wanted. Staying in bed all day, avoiding the constant stream of Death Eaters that seemed to be in his house, eating some god awful sweets from Diagon Alley that still seemed to fill him up even though they shouldn't really. The common room was just so... unwelcoming. Everyone's faces seemed to be showing constant depression, and even though normally Draco would've welcomed that, for he'd be the only happy one, today he felt different. He was like everyone else. Upset. Confused. Lonely. Trying not to make eye contact with anyone, Draco stormed up to the boys dormitories.

'Fuck you, Granger,' Draco said to himself quietly. 'Fuck. You.'

'Hermione, we hate Draco as much as you, but we're kind of trying to study and in all honesty we don't care,' Harry told her that evening as they sat around the warm, toasty fire trying to revise for the upcoming Transfiguration mock OWL.

'No, but you guys don't _understand_ how much I hate him,' Hermione tried to explain.

'Oh we do, it's just you're a girl and-' Ron started.

'Excuse me?' Hermione said defensively. 'How were you going to finish that sentence?' She glared at Ron with the best 'as-icy-cold-as-Draco' stare as she could. This somehow managed to work, as Ron gave her an apologetic look, cowered away and transfixed himself on his revision.

'Listen, Hermione, we're busy. We have to study,' Harry explained, 'and you don't really, do you? Like, you know everything already, so you can complain as much as you want. I mean, Parvati's free, she's done revising, so why don't you go and complain to her?'

'But it's not the same!' Hermione exclaimed, slamming down her 'Transfiguration for the Talented' book on her lap on every syllable she spoke. 'She doesn't understand how awful Draco is. She's never really spoken to him before.' Hermione looked at the boys hopefully, wishing for some decent response, but they just looked at her blankly. She sighed and got up, dropping her 'Transfiguration for the Talented' book in front of Ron.

'Think you might need this,' Hermione said sharply to him and walked away to her dorm.

She sat down on her bed and stared into space for a while before coming round again and fixing her thoughts on Mr Malfoy again. _He is truly an awful human being, _she thought. _How does he get away with being so mean? Surely the teachers and everyone else have noticed how rude he is to everyone? Especially me. Just looking at him... ugh. He... he disgusts me. He really does. Those damn eyes. I can't look away. Why? I'm sure I could, easily enough. _

Hermione drifted in and out of a daze before realising what she was actually thinking. Her eyes widened in realisation. 'Oh God!' Hermione said to herself, shocked at her thoughts and where they could easily go. 'No! That's low, Hermione. Really low. Draco?' She shook her head and stood up, breathing in and out, calming herself down. _Time to take a walk outside I think._

'I can't believe I'm thinking these things,' Draco said to himself, sitting in his dorm alone. 'It's just my fucking imagination and the damn library incident getting to me. That's all.' He slowly stood up and made his way downstairs, not really in the moment.

Coming out of the stairway, Draco was met with a yell from Crabbe. 'You a'ight, mate?' Crabbe asked, waddling over to Draco.

'What are you eating?' Draco asked him, making effort to try and make conversation so he didn't seem too off.

'What? I ain't eating nuffin.'

'Yes you are.'

'A'ight, you got me,' Crabbe finally said. His loud munching gave away the fact that he was eating something crunchy. Crabbe looked over both shoulders so to make sure people weren't looking. He reached into his left robe pocket and pulled out a glinting gold packet.

'And what's that, may I ask?' Draco said.

'It's sumfin called a Crunchie, yeah? Muggle shit. It's fucking nice though. Want a bit?' Crabbe was shoving the whole Crunchie bar into Draco's face. Draco backed away, slightly nauseated.

'Ew, no.' Draco backed away more slowly and finally strode out from the common room as fast as he could. _Time to take a walk outside I think._


	4. Chapter 4

Kicking a stone along the ground was the simplest form of entertainment for Hermione. Watching it roll uncontrollably straight forward, to the left, or to the right was one way for her to stay happy whilst also keeping her mind off of unwanted thoughts.

It was a misty, bitterly cold December evening, but Hermione had only walked out with jeans and a jumper thrown on. It was enough, she had told herself before she walked out. When her skin felt the sharp air, she realised she was wrong, but she didn't really feel like going back inside to get her jacket. She just kept walking, trying not to feel anything. No emotion, no physical feeling. She had never faced such a difficult, weird and pretty disturbing situation before. Her... and Draco? What? It was, admittedly, a thought she sometimes delved into when she was left to her own devices, before coming right back to reality when she would realise that it would never work. And the thought alone disturbed her and embarrassed her. She felt that somehow Draco could read her mind, see that she thought about them together, reveal it to the whole world and mock her endlessly until she would HAVE to leave Hogwarts forever.

Well... that wouldn't ever happen, for Draco couldn't read minds, but it was still something Hermione thought about daily which caused her to suppress her thoughts and move on with her life, something which was very hard to do indeed.

As Hermione looked up from kicking the stone along a stony path that winding right around the whole perimeter of Hogwarts, she saw a big tree close to her that looked comfortable to sit under. She half-skipped towards it and sat down, snuggling up beneath the broad, sheltering branches. She pulled her jumper sleeves up and over her hands and crossed her arms, settling into the tree.

Leaving Hermione Granger to her own thoughts did one of two things: made her think about life's endless possibilities and the ins and outs of the Universe, or made her think about her personal issues that she so badly tried to hide from Harry and Ron. Today's issue: Draco. Freaking. Malfoy. _God, I'm so annoyed, _she thought, whilst snuggling up even more into the tree. _It's just... I'm so disgusted in myself. Thought I had higher standards than Malfoy. Like, it's Malfoy! Draco Malfoy! _She laughed out loud. _Who am I kidding?_

'Yes, mist sure is hilarious,' came a weirdly soft voice. Hermione shrieked and jumped up. She looked around, but couldn't find the source of the voice. It sounded like it should be spewing out insults, but it wasn't. 'Frightened you, haven't I?' the voice said again.

'Just a bit,' Hermione said.

'Hm. It's fun to frighten you.'

'Yeah well I bet you're having a ball right now!' Hermione exclaimed. She squinted into the now extremely thick mist and saw just a faint outlining of a tall, manly figure, standing upright.

'I am, you're right. I am enjoying this,' the voice agreed.

'Would you mind revealing to me who you are?' Hermione asked the air. 'I recognise your voice but I just can't put a name to it.'

'For a smart girl I would've thought you would've worked it out by now.'

'I obviously haven't! Now reveal yourself immediately.'

'I don't take commands from you,' the voice said, trying to maintain its dignity.

'Why, because I'm a girl?'

'No, because I don't take commands from anyone.' Hermione stopped for a moment, trying to work out who this person could be. However, her mind was so confused with thoughts of Draco that she couldn't work it out.

Wait.

Draco.

'Malfoy? Is that you?' she asked the air. No response. 'Malfoy?' she asked again.

'I thought you'd think it was Draco,' the voice finally said. The sudden sound of the voice made Hermione jump a little with fright.

'So it's not?' Hermione asked.

'No.'

'Oh. So who is it then?'

'Just someone. I would reveal myself, but then again, if I so desperately wanted to, I would step forward about three or four steps and you'd see my face.'

'Well, if you don't, should I?' Hermione started to step forward, but was stopped.

'NO! No you can't!' the voice told her, with an unfamiliar tone of worry and anxiousness mixed within the softness.

'But I don't understand why I can't!' Hermione protested.

'You just can't. Don't.' Hermione sighed at being told to stay where she was, but for some reason she felt a bond with this voice, this person whose identity was unknown, so she stayed still. 'Now go,' the voice told her again. 'For your own sake, go. You must know I've waited for this moment for a while now. But I can't mess it up. You need to go back to your dormitory and stay there. Don't think about this encounter again. Do you understand me?' Hermione started to choke up. Tears were forming in her eyes at the very thought that she may never know who this person was. She was already falling in love with this person who she didn't know. She didn't even know that was possible until now.

'But-' Hermione tried to utter out a coherent sentence, but her emotions blocked her throat.

'Hermione, please,' the voice whispered, also sounding on the brink of crying. Hermione thought about the idea of never knowing who this person was, of never knowingly meeting them again. She took a deep breath.

'Yes,' she agreed. 'Yes, okay.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Me too. Bye.'

'Turn around and go the opposite way, so you don't see me. Trust me, it may be misty but I've just come from that direction; it gets much clearer in about a minute of walking over that way,' the voice explained.

'Okay,' Hermione said. She turned around, not believing what happened had actually happened. She reluctantly dragged her feet across the dewy grass, which dampened her shoes.

Watching her walk away was the hardest thing that he had ever had to do. Talking to her felt so natural, so normal. He wished that he could just run after her and kiss her. But he knew that she would flip. She absolutely hated his guts with all her might and more. Why would she kiss back willingly? She had no reason to.

He walked over to the tree and sat down where she had been. Running his hands through the wet grass, he thought to himself, _Draco, what have you just done?_


	5. Chapter 5

Crying wasn't something Hermione did often. Nor was it something she liked to do often. Only something so strong and powerful would make Hermione cry. So, apparently, her interaction with this person whose identity would never be known was something so strong and powerful that she couldn't help but sob for hours on end. She didn't even know why she felt so much emotion for an encounter that lasted five minutes at most. She didn't even know who she was talking to, but she felt such an obvious connection with them. She felt like they understood each other, respected each other and knew each other. That last point made Hermione the most emotional. She knew that she knew this person, but she would never ever find out who the person was unless she met them again in the mist and they decided to reveal their identity.

Yes.

Yes, that's a way.

Maybe, just maybe, she could go back outside and Mist Boy, as she now referred to him as, would be there again, possibly thinking the same thing as she: if they went out back to that tree, they would find each other again. And maybe Mist Boy would be brave enough to reveal his identity.

Maybe.

That word. That stupid word. _Maybe. _So much uncertainty. So much doubt. Why be uncertain and doubtful about something that was to be? Why be uncertain and doubtful about each other when it was so damn clear that there was something, whatever it was. A spark.

Sitting alone in her dormitory, Hermione decided to stop crying. Stop crying over something that would obviously never happen. Mist Boy had implied that himself, didn't he? If he told her to get over him and the whole incident, then she should. Shouldn't she?

Drying her eyes and her tear-stained rosy cheeks, Hermione decided to sort herself out. She decided to take a shower and go and revise in the library for the Transfiguration mock she had the next day. 'Just shove Mist Boy to the back of your head for the time being,' Hermione murmured to herself and she got in the shower.

_Aaahhh, _she thought as the hot water caressed her body and warmed her up. _That is so much better. _Showering made her feel as if she had washed Mist Boy off her, although after she stepped out of the shower she wished as if she hadn't done so. He was just so... perfect. Perfect for her. He obviously cared for her, but he had a sense of humour. He was intelligent - she could tell this by the way he softly and slowly spoke, thinking about every single word before he said it, perfecting every detail, shaping it to the shape he wanted it to be, before the detail had even been created.

Who was he? Who in the name of god was he? Never before had Hermione been so determined to work out the identity of someone before... well, honestly, she has never had to work out the identity of someone before, so this was a first! But a first that she had to uncover. As soon as possible.

The library was absolutely packed, full to the brim of fifth year Transfiguration students doing last minute studying. Hermione searched high and low for a comfortable seat, one that made you want to fall asleep as soon as you sat in it. But alas, there were none. She looked up and down hopelessly, wishing one would finally be free, but to no avail. She settled down on a hard, wooden, falling apart chair by an even worse quality table. As she sat it rocked from side to side, making her heart jump a little. Hermione finally managed to start reading, trying to not dwell on the fact that someone about three metres in front of her sat, reading 'Transfiguration for the Talent' like she, but in a huge, encasing, green velvet chair. This person held the book up so high Hermione couldn't tell who it was, but whoever it was, she was extremely jealous of them. But as soon as she opened her book, the person stood up. 'Take the chair,' the person told them. Hermione looked up suddenly and her eyes met with those of icy grey. _Draco Malfoy_. Hermione tried to hide the fact that her heart started beating a million times faster than it should do.

'Why?' Hermione asked him, hesitant to take the chair. 'Have you done something to it?'

'No,' Draco replied, less bitterly than she thought he would've done. 'Just take it. I know you want it. Walking up and down staring at every comfortable chair in the whole library sends out a message, you know.' Hermione turned a very unattractive shade of red and looked down, breaking the intense eye contact she had already made with Draco.

'Why are you doing this?' Hermione said, standing up slowly and moving towards him and the chair. 'You hate me.'

'Oh, yeah, I know.' Draco suddenly realised he was not to be nice to Hermione in public. _Jesus Christ, Draco, _he thought. _What in the world are you doing? _'Listen, Mudblood-' he swaggered up to Hermione, spitting out the word "mudblood" '-just take the fucking chair. I'm done with it, and you look desperate over there with your breaking furniture. I pity you.' He let out a spiteful laugh, and as soon as he did, Hermione's face showed obvious sadness. _Of course, _Hermione thought. _He doesn't like me. He bloody well despises me! What fool lets herself think that her arch enemy actually like her? God, how dumb do you have to be?!_

'Right,' Hermione croaked. She moved over to the chair and sat down. 'Thanks, Malfoy.' She didn't really have the emotional stability to try and sass him back. She just sat down, trying not to break down in tears. Whilst she opened up her book to cover her face, Draco just stood there, watching her, his expression totally different to his expression five seconds ago. His eyes, normally full of hate and anger, now full of despair and, still hatred, but not for others, but for himself. He hated, HATED the way he had acted. He saw her expression change. He understood what she was feeling like because he had once felt it himself, funnily with her. Whenever Hermione would show so much anger towards him, Draco's heart would sink so low that he didn't know if he could ever retrieve it again. Because she sent out this aura of complete hatred, complete anger. He knew that he had dug himself so deep into this pit of hate that he couldn't see the sky anymore.

Draco still kept on looking at her, tears now welling up faster than they ever had done before. Never before had he hated himself just as much as he hated himself now. _Now way in fuck will Hermione ever love you now, you fucking twat. _He grabbed his hair with his right hand and covered his mouth with his left, trying his hardest to stay quiet. Hermione sensed his being there, and slowly looked over the top of her book, hiding her red, swollen, tear-filled eyes. 'What do you want?' she asked, her voice now shaking. 'Why are you here? Here to mock me? Spit on me? Call me "mudblood" for the nth time? Well, are you? Because, Draco, I can't take it anymore. Please leave.' Draco didn't move. He couldn't. His feet were glued to the ground. He couldn't stop staring at her. She was so beautiful when she cried; her innocence and vulnerability shone through and all he wanted to do was pick up and kiss her. But he couldn't. He probably could never do that. Tears started rolling down his pale cheeks. Hermione was taken aback by this, but nonetheless she kept asking him to leave. 'Draco. You need to go.' And all Draco could do was nod and run away.


End file.
